Love in the Cornfield
by ktCatsbone
Summary: Excuse the cheesy title. Based on the book, not the movie. The romance of Malachi and Ruth, both before and after the arrival of the outlanders. Rated for romance and blood in later chapters ON HITUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
1. Sweet Sacrifice

NOTE: This is more closely related to the book, not the movie although I do derive my depiction of Malachi and Isaac from the movie.

Ruth is not my OC, she is in the book.

Do not hate me for the corniness of this story (pun not intended).

I got this idea out of the blue, late at night, but I intend to finish it.

END NOTE

**LOVE IN THE CORNFIELD**

Chapter one: Sweet Sacrifice

"Malachi!"

"Yes, Isaac?"

"Cut no more than seven stalks of corn from the field and bring them to the kitchen!" The small boy commanded, pushing his hat up with his index finger. "The girls need to grind corn for future suppers."

"It will be done," the older boy nodded and removed a short-handled scythe from his belt. He rapidly walked over to the massive field of golden stalks and started slicing at the closest stem.

"Have them there before noon Malachi or you will not partake in supper tonight," Isaac warned, before heading off to the clearing to meditate with He Who Walks Behind The Rows.

Malachi scowled slightly as he dragged the first stalk of corn a short distance away. The seventeen year old knew he shouldn't have be daydreaming and that Isaac was right to punish him. But he believed the lord should have some sympathy for those who were woken before dawn. Malachi had been roused by a crow cawing just outside his room. The laws of Gatlin commanded that any crow detected must be destroyed, so he had had no choice but to drag himself out of bed and slaughter the winged Satan. It had been no easy task and by the time the bird had been sliced into bits and burned, breakfast was no longer being served. So no one could blame him for nodding off; he was as tired and hungry as an infant.

Luckily, Malachi had one thing on his side. He had one of the most efficient and skilled pairs of hands in the town. He could slaughter a calf with a single flick of the wrist and clear an acre of corn in less than half a day. So he rapidly had the seven stalks in a bundle on his shoulder.

In his sleep-deprived state, it took Malachi longer than it normally would to would to reach the community kitchen. Although nobody was visible, noises could be heard in the small building's heart. Malachi yawned deeply as he laid the bundle by the open door. In his state, the young man couldn't help but notice the shade cast by the building.

"_I'll just rest for a moment, then return to work,"_ he thought, slumping down with his back against the wall. Malachi folded his arms across his chest and let his eyelids droop.

"Malachi!"

He started and drew his scythe from his belt, but stopped when he saw who it was. A girl of fifteen with light brow hair set in loose curls and pale green eyes. Her arms were crossed and, although she looked angry, she also appeared to be glad to see him.

"Ruth," Malachi smiled, returning his scythe to his belt, "Good morning."

"Good morning Malachi," Ruth smiled back slightly. "Rise, you must not let anyone catch you dozing."

"I know you will not tell Isaac," he smirked, knowingly, running his fingers through his long red hair.

"I will not," the girl admitted, "if you will help me prepare the corn for the mill."

"Why won't the others help you?"

"Many of the little ones have fallen ill," Ruth sighed, kneeling in front of the pile of stalks and removing a cob of corn. "A terrible flu, so many of the girls are caring for them. We have so few in the kitchen, Malachi . . ."

"I will help you," he reassured her, taking a cob to shuck. They worked in silence, hearing nothing but the rustling of the corn. Malachi looked up from his work to find Ruth's eyes staring back at him. She quickly looked back down at her work, but Malachi had seen the sparkle in her eyes.

He smiled even more now as he worked. Malachi was grateful for the chance to work beside Ruth. She had been a close friend, both before and after the cleansing of Gatlin. However, after the cleansing boys and girls rarely worked together, only interacting at meals, worship and ceremonies. Malachi secretly disliked this custom, for he was very close to Ruth and knew she could be as tough as any boy.

"Malachi, it is high noon," coaxed Ruth. Realizing he had been daydreaming again, Malachi began rapidly shucking off the silky hair of the corn.

"Peace," chuckled Ruth, rising to her feet. "I merely meant that I need to get food for the young ones now."

"Oh," a blush crept into Malachi's cheeks. "Very well, I shall finish preparing the corn for you."

"You are too kind Malachi." Ruth entered the kitchen, leaving all alone. He now felt truly miserable. Though the drowsiness had all but vanished, his hunger now tore at his insides. Malachi would have given anything now to be a young child and receive lunch.

To ration supplies, it was commanded that only those under twelve would receive three meals a day. Those older were excepted to only have two meals, breakfast and supper. But even Malachi, one of the strongest in Gatlin, had difficulty functioning on an empty stomach.

He tried to keep his mind off it by attempting to finish shucking the corn. But he could not go as fast as he normally could. Malachi reached into his pocket and squeezed his crucifix, praying for strength to keep going.

"Malachi." Ruth had returned, holding her apron in front of her. Sitting back down, she offered him what she had hidden in her apron. It was some dried beef.

"Ruth!" He was astonished by her blatant sinning.

"Take it and eat," she insisted, putting it in his hand, "you were not at breakfast, I recall. You must be famished."

"But . . . but . . ." Malachi stammered. Normally an obedient follower of God, the temptation of the stolen meat was truly testing him. Hunger won out and he savagely sunk his teeth into beef, his stomach singing praises.

"Thank you Ruth," he said when the mouthful was swallowed.

"No need for thanks," was the response, as she returned to preparing the corn.

"But you sinned for me," Malachi reminded her.

"Well . . ." Ruth hesitated, then shrugged. "The alternative was to see you perish from starvation."

"I was not going to perish," Malachi scowled as he took another bite, his pride dented.

"You were as white as a sheet when I found you," she laughed. "If not for me, you would be with He Who Walks Behind The Rows."

"I would not."

"Yes, you would."

"I would not."

"Yes, you would."

"There you are Malachi!"

Both Malachi and Ruth jumped. They turned to see Isaac, glaring at them with disproval.

"I am sorry to tell you Malachi," the prophet told him, "that while you were here, doing girl's work, a male deer got into the field and ate a vast amount of corn. With your skilled hands, it would have been simple to bring it down. But instead, Simon now lies at his home with a severe cut across his face. He is lucky to still have his eyes. Malachi, what is that in your hand?"

Malachi's heart sank. Standing up, he held out the half-eaten piece of dried beef. Isaac's eyes widened.

"I never would have thought that you would be such a blatant sinner!" He was enraged. "No supper tonight for you Malachi and you should consider yourself lucky I don't make the punishment more severe! Before today, I was going to christen you second in command, but now I believe that title shall go to Joseph."

Malachi bowed his head, guilt and anger filling his body. Today was the first day he had ever sinned and now Joseph, the lazy lay about, was going to take the job he had always wanted.

"Please Isaac!" Ruth had gotten on her knees directly in front of him. "It was I who made Malachi sin. I made him help me, he did not wish to. I stole the food, he did not wish to eat it."

"Is this true?" Isaac asked Malachi, suspicion etched on his face.

"N-"

Ruth glanced at him and shook her head ever so slightly.

"Yes Isaac, it is true," Malachi nodded, looking at the ground.

Isaac rubbed his chin thoughtfully, glancing at the girl kneeling at his feet to the older boy kicking the dirt with his shoe.

"Ruth," he said at last, "you have confessed to committing a great sin. No supper tonight and you shall be banned from church tonight as well."

"Forgive me," Ruth murmured.

"Ask for God's forgiveness child, not mine," Isaac reminded her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Ruth removed her own crucifix from her apron pocket and held it in front of her. She recited some verses and Isaac repeated them with her

"Well done Ruth," he smiled at the last amen. "Now rise."

She got to her feet.

"Carry on with your work." Isaac gave Malachi a long hard stare, then said, "Consider yourself extremely fortunate. You shall eat tonight Malachi and I shall reconsider appointing you second in command." With that, the most revered person in Gatlin turned and walked off.

Malachi turned to Ruth as she returned her crucifix to her pocket.

"You did not have to do that."

"Yes, I did," Ruth smiled, shucking the last piece of corn. "Everybody knows you are the only one for the position of second in command. I couldn't let Isaac take that away from you because of my actions."

"But you won't eat tonight," he pressed on.

"I'm strong Malachi, I can go one night without food," Ruth reassured him, collecting the corn in her apron. However her face fell when she remarked, "I would have liked to attended church, however."

"I am truly sorry Ruth," Malachi sighed, touching her shoulder lightly.

"Think nothing of it," she insisted. "If I were you, I would go and apologize to Simon."

"All right, I shall," he promised her, "Good day."

"Good day," Ruth waved as she placed the corn in the hand-operated mill.

Malachi couldn't help but look back at Ruth as he walked off, thinking for the thousandth time how wonderful she was.

NOTE: Every chapter title in this story will be a song title. Possible request to the first to tell me the artist/band


	2. Sin with a Grin

Chapter two: Sin with a Grin

As the stars gradually appeared in the dark sky, all of the children started heading in small clusters for the church. All except Ruth, of course.

She went in the opposite direction, towards the small Gatlin farm. Though the main export of Gatlin had been corn before the cleansing, many families had kept private livestock in a public barn. For a fee, the animals would be boarded, as long as the families fed their own livestock and allowed the public to view them. After the cleansing, the farm had been preserved to supply the children with protein and dairy. There were a few dozen chickens, around a dozen pigs, around a dozen cows and three large carthorses.

Ruth strolled purposefully into the paddock that held the horses. They had belonged to the blue man, who would use them to take sinners to jail since cars had been in short supply. Now Nahum, Bathsheba and Adonijah (originally named Willy, Betty and Dinah) were used only when the boys in the town were unable to accomplish a physical task. Nahum was a handsome roan stallion that could easily pull three times his own weight. Bathsheba was a chestnut who was extremely skittish, due to an unknown experience that occurred before her arrival. And Adonijah, the white mare, was the gentlest creature in town and was only days away from delivering a foal.

Ruth couldn't resist stroking Adonijah's side, feeling the rise and fall of the pregnant mare's steady breathing. The horse stirred, opened her eyes, spotted the visitor and nickered, tossing her head happily. After patting Adonijah's muzzle, Ruth took the last few steps towards her destination, one of her favorite places, the horse cart.

The cart was made entirely out of wood, from the wheels to the drivers seat. The back of it was filled with cornhusks for the cart was used mainly for transporting large amounts of corn for fuel or ceremonies. Hoisting up her skirt, Ruth climbed into the back of the cart. The husks scratched and clung to her stockings as she crawled to a corner of the cart. She untied her apron and bunched it up to make a pillow for her head.

Reclining back, Ruth stared up at the stars, the scent of corn filling her nose. She would have given anything to attend church. Tonight was a special night, for the son of Moses and Naomi, Solomon, was being baptized and baptisms were very special occasions. Even from where she lay, she could here the cries of "Hallelujah!" and "We follow He Who Walks Behind The Rows!"

Ruth was also starting to become very aware of the ache in her stomach. Although a strong person, this was the first time in her life she had been denied food and her body was not responding well. She worried her bottom lip and tried to concentrate on the night sky, a sight that always brought her pleasure. It worked, it always had, and she could feel her body relaxing as she opened her senses to the night.

"Are you up there Ruth?"

Ruth gasped and sat up. Malachi had scrambled into the cart, clutching a handkerchief in his hands.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, tucking her legs underneath her body.

"Repaying my debt to you," was the response, as he unwrapped the handkerchief to reveal a slice of chicken breast and some crumbled pieces of cornbread.

"I told you that I did not require thanks," she scolded, while her mouth watered as she gazed at the cornbread, her hunger rekindled at the sight of her favorite food.

"Just eat it," Malachi smiled. "I went to all the trouble to sneak it off my plate and into this handkerchief without being caught, it would be the least you could do."

"I do believe that I am a bad influence on you," Ruth smirked at him. She grabbed the handkerchief and shoveled the cornbread into her mouth. Crumbs fell from her lips and into her lap.

"You're going to make yourself ill," Malachi warned.

"I'm sorry," she coughed, unable to swallow.

The redhead thumped her on the back and she finally managed to swallow. Immediately she grabbed the slice of chicken and began chewing with great enthusiasm.

"Good lord Ruth," Malachi chided. "I believe I recall you saying that you could survive one night without food."

Ruth handed back the empty handkerchief, but did not reply. She felt foolish now, having been so greedy. She would not look at Malachi, not wanting him to see the color in her cheeks. Instead she gazed back at the sky and asked, "Is church over all ready?"

"No," Malachi shook his head. "I watched the baptism of Solomon and then left to find you."

"Isaac allowed that?"

"I told him I wished to pray in the clearing," he admitted, reclining back in the cornhusks, "so, I did and then went to find you."

"And how did you know I would be here?" she asked.

"It is no secret that you love the animals, Ruth," Malachi reminded her, "so I took a chance."

Ruth smiled and lay back down in the cornhusks. She still would not look at her companion. Her focus was on the pinpricks of light shining down from the ink black sky. The light reflected off the corn, making it glow golden.

"Who was chosen to be Solomon's godparents?" she asked, rolling over onto her side.

"Noah and Miriam." Malachi replied, rolling to face Ruth. "They are old enough to take responsibility of a child after Moses and Naomi have gone to join He Who Walks Behind The Rows."

Ruth nodded. For a while, there was absolute silence except for the wind blowing the corn and the animals snoring in the distance. Then Ruth shivered.

"Is the wind too much?" The question was asked with deep concern.

"It does chill the body," she admitted, "but we must not risk going back and being caught."

"Would you care to wear my shirt?" Malachi offered, beginning to undo his buttons.

"No, no," Ruth said quickly, "I do not want you to catch a chill."

"Well then," Malachi mused, redoing his buttons, "at least come a little closer. It is a fact that two bodies can provide quite adequate heat."

Ruth hesitated, knowing this behavior was normally frowned upon. But Malachi made up her mind for her, edging right up next to her. Although his warmth did help, it did not feel appropriate to be lying down. She requested that they simply sit close together.

"If that is what you want," Malachi nodded and sat up, Ruth swiftly following. Several more long moments passed in silence and Ruth found herself becoming colder and colder. Not realizing what she was doing, she pressed herself against Malachi's body. He did not object.

Her companion did shift and suddenly, his arm was around her shoulders. A thrill of excitement ran through her. She knew this was frowned upon as well, but the warmth coming from his body felt so good. Ruth let her head fall back against Malachi's chest, feeling small compared to him.

"Malachi?"

"Hmm?"

"I think that the corn looks truly beautiful on nights like tonight," she told him. "The way the wind blows it about, it resembles a vast body of water."

"Uh huh," he nodded, "truly beautiful."

Ruth looked up to see Malachi gazing, not at the rows of corn, but at her. His brown eyes had a kind of fire dancing in them, a look they only ever had when he was determined to accomplish something. Moving as though it pained him, Malachi brought his left hand up and ghosted two fingers delicately against Ruth's lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Truly beautiful," he whispered again, lightly running his hand down her cheek. The arm around her shoulders moved so that his right hand was cradling the back of her head. Ruth found it impossible to move or look away from Malachi's face.

When he moved so that their lips were touching, the rigidity in Ruth's body melted away. She found that her arms had wrapped themselves around and slightly up Malachi's back and that her fingers were just barely brushing against his long red hair. Ruth started shifting her lips against Malachi's, not knowing what she was feeling, but knowing she craved it. The hand that held the back of her head was tugging lightly at her hair and his lips began moving as well, trying to mimic hers.

Then something damp brushed against Ruth's lips. It startled her enough to cause her mouth to open and let it gain entrance. The sensation of what she realized was Malachi's tongue darting against her mouth caused her breathing to increase. What they were doing was very, very wrong, but at this moment Ruth was prepared to sell her soul to Satan if it meant they could remain like this forever . . .

Malachi tore himself away from her. The fire in his eyes had been replaced by utter terror.

"Forgive me Ruth," he gasped before he took off, jumping down from the cart, bolting out of the paddock and running, full tilt, for his house.

She did not attempt to pursue him, nor call out for him. The stunned girl merely got out of the cart and shuffled towards her own home. The walk felt especially long that night. She knew that both of them had sinned against god, which was why Malachi had fled. But Ruth couldn't help but ponder why something bad felt so good.


	3. Listen to Your Heart

Chapter three: Listen to your Heart

Malachi lay in bed, full clothed and shaking. His body was sticky with sweat and his heart was racing. He could not recall a time when he was more afraid or more exhilarated.

He laid two fingers against his lips, remembering the warmth of Ruth's lips and discovered that he could still taste her slightly. This did little to quell the hammering of his heart. In fact, all it did was send his blood rushing down, sinfully.

Grabbing a fistful of his sheets, Malachi willed himself not to cry. He felt that he was surely going to burn in hell now. So many sins in one day, so many deadly sins in one day. And all because of Ruth.

Ruth. The name that he wished to curse and praise. Something about her caused him to sin. To steal for her, to lie for her and, worst of all, to lust after her. He longed to touch her more sinfully than he already had, but he knew merely thinking like that could send him to hell.

"_Why lord?"_ he prayed silently, _"I have always obeyed your word. Why thrust all this temptation on me?"_

Moving as though in a dream, Malachi undressed and pulled on the oversized shirt he slept in. Kneeling in front of his bed, he held his crucifix up above his head.

"He Who Walks Behind The Rows, hear my prayer," he chanted, "forgive my impure thoughts and actions and show me how to overcome this sin. I give you my breath, my life in exchange for your guidance."

The rustling of the cornfield seemed to grow louder as Malachi drew the cross across his chest. His body felt light as he lay back down in bed, although his blood had still not returned from that most sinful of places. He felt he could not afford to sin anymore, so he tried to sleep instead of dealing with the problem.

However, praying had helped with one problem, as it usually did. He now knew what he was going to do as soon as he awoke the following morning. He would go into confessional with Isaac.

* * *

"Forgive me for calling on you so early Isaac."

"No time is too early for God," the younger boy reassured him, stifling a yawn behind his hand. "Now tell me what you wish to confess."

Malachi bowed his head, but kept his eyes focused on the altar, where Isaac gazed upon him with concern and mild amusement. "I have sinned blatantly against the lord," he admitted.

"Speak of something that the lord is not aware of it," Isaac retorted, a touch harshly.

Malachi fought to repress a scowl. "While it is true that I have been slothful the previous day," he continued, "I have come to confess of a far greater sin."

"Go on," Isaac coaxed.

"I have touched a female sinfully," Malachi told him, "I allowed our lips to touch."

The look on his preachers face puzzled the older boy. Isaac did not appear angry, in fact he appeared quite pleased.

"Tell me which female it was," he asked politely.

"It was Ruth." Malachi spoke her name with such emotion and heart. Isaac's smile broadened.

"Just one more question Malachi," Isaac stepped down from the altar, walked up to the kneeling boy and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Do you love her?"

The question had not been anticipated and Malachi was unsure of his answer of his answer. In all honesty, he knew what his heart told him, but he did not know if that would please Isaac. Finally he decided to speak of what he felt.

"When I am around Ruth," he began, "I forget my worries and my problems. Instead I want to make her woes disappear and see her face light up like the sun. Her laugh sounds like an angelic choir and her face is more beautiful to me than the bountiful field of corn. I am willing to offer my own life in exchange for hers. If that is love, then yes, I believe I do love her."

Isaac squeezed Malachi's shoulder in a very fatherly way.

"Well, from what you have told me my child, you have but one option."

"Yes Isaac?"

"You must marry her," the young boy smiled.

"Marry?" Malachi gaped.

"Of course." Isaac was very matter of fact. "It is obvious that you love Ruth and your sin of touching would be forgiven if she was your wife. And, if you were married, you could aid the continuation of our town by siring children."

"Married . . ." He could almost picture it perfectly in his mind. Being allowed to touch Ruth, in private obviously, without the impending threat of hell. Sharing a home with her, watching her belly swell up with his child. His best friend, his wife, the mother of his children . . .

"I shall do it!" Malachi exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

"Excellent!" Isaac praised him. "Of course, this must be done in the proper manner." The preacher walked back to the altar and opened his copy of the holy bible. "Marriage, marriage," he thumbed through the pages, "it has been a great while since I last viewed that section . . . ah, here we are. 'Any man wishing to take a woman to be his bride must present her with his most treasured belonging at a location where both have experienced great happiness.'"

Malachi fingered his scythe as he thought of the horse paddock. "Is that all that must be done?" he asked.

"No, no," Isaac shook his head, "there is a wedding ceremony that must happen as well. Do not tell me that you have never seen a wedding?"

"Never," was the response, "I have always had other engagements."

"Such as?"

"Aiding in the harvest or guarding our town," Malachi was trembling with fear under Isaac's stern glare, "or simply having fallen ill."

Seemingly content with that answer, Isaac gazed thoughtfully out the window. He closed his eyes and suddenly a ray of sunlight flooded the room, illuminating the young boy's face. Malachi fell to his knees once more, realizing they must be in the presence of God.

"He Who Walks Behind The Rows is very pleased with you Malachi," Isaac spoke softly, as the sun faded from his face. "He has told me that you and Ruth shall be married in three weeks time and that you shall ask for her hand on the day of your birthday."

The older boy swallowed. His eighteenth birthday was a week away.

"After it is confirmed, I shall discuss with Rachel about performing the wedding ceremony. In the mean time, I'd advise you to keep your distance from Ruth."

"But why?" Malachi blurted out.

"Do not question me!" Isaac snapped, his face suddenly dark and stern. "I speak for He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Doubt me and you doubt him. Do you doubt God Malachi?"

"Never!" Malachi swore, drawing a cross on his chest.

"Very well," the preacher began heading towards his private chambers, "now go in peace, unless you have something more to ask."

"There is one more thing . . ." Malachi hesitated. Isaac folded his arms across his chest and waited. The older boy blushed bright red. He did not feel embarrassed about asking this question to a preacher. He was embarrassed because he was nearly eighteen and asking this question of a nine year old.

"Is h-human mating the same as animal mating?"

Now even Isaac blushed slightly.

"Very nearly," he said, "wait here a moment."

Isaac disappeared into his chambers. Malachi still felt very odd about asking that question. But the matter had to be addressed if he did not want to look a fool on his wedding night.

The younger boy returned carrying a large book in his arms.

"This book is only ever viewed by those wishing to marry," he explained, depositing it into his hands, "It will tell you all you need to know."

Malachi, who had gone through the majority of school, could read the title but did not know what it meant.

"Return it immediately after you have read it," Isaac warned, "it would be disastrous if that book fell into the wrong hands."

"I understand," Malachi nodded, "thank you Isaac."

"Thank the lord, not me," the preacher reminded him.

"Bless you lord," Malachi prayed, before turning and heading home to put away his new book, The Karma Sutra.


	4. Here I am

Chapter four: Here I Am

On the day of his eighteenth birthday, Malachi awoke feeling afraid. Not afraid of asking Ruth for her hand, but afraid of rejection. And he felt rejection was a strong possibility.

Although he had heeded Isaac's advice and kept his distance from her, the precaution was not necessary. Ruth was doing everything possible; it seemed, to avoid him. She sat right in the middle of her group of female friends, whether in church or at mealtime. She would also walk faster is he attempted to approach her and refused to meet his gaze. It caused him to wonder if she would even speak to him.

For the first time since the cleansing, Malachi took a great while to get dressed. After ridding the Gatlin of all those who would judge one another by what they wore, it had not bothered him to simply wear jeans and a work shirt everyday. Now, however, he felt an urge to appear well groomed on such a special day.

The clean laundry that had been delivered did not prove to be helpful, for it was merely jeans and work shirts. So he began searching through his closet, which he had not touched in years. Behind masses of dust covered, fancy clothes, he found a pair of brown corduroy pants and a light green shirt. They seemed nicer than everything else, so he put them on, after shaking the dust off.

Next, Malachi wetted a comb and ran it through his unruly hair. He had bathed the previous night, so it was not as wild. But it did refuse to lie as flat as he would have liked.

Just before heading off for breakfast, he took out his scythe and polished it with a damp rag. Soon the blade was gleaming, lethal and beautiful. Malachi was sad to part with it, but it was a small price to pay for an eternity with Ruth.

He arrived at the dinning hall to find a large number of people all ready eating. He gratefully accepted his plate of scrambled eggs and grits, and then went to find a table. Spotting a free chair next to some working companions, Malachi headed in that direction.

"What on earth are you wearing Malachi?" Simon asked, eyebrow raised as the older boy sat down.

"What's wrong with it?" Malachi asked, picking up his fork.

"You look so . . . clean," Simon finished, squinting to get a better look through the gaps in the bandages wrapped around his face. "Far too clean. Aren't you working in the barn today?"

"Yes, why should that matter?" the redhead frowned.

"It doesn't, I guess . . ." Simon trailed off. Though normally an even-tempered person, everybody gave Malachi a wide berth when he was angry. He rarely lost his temper, but nobody wanted to risk it. The only two people he never lost his temper with were Isaac and Ruth.

"What Simon is implying," Moses cut in delicately, "is simply that your nice clothes are likely to be ruined in the barn."

Malachi said nothing, for he knew Moses was right. He had not thought about his duties for the day, he had merely dressed to appear nice. He had been vain. Reaching into his pocket, he clutched his crucifix and recited a short prayer of forgiveness. Then he returned to eating.

As he was finishing, he couldn't help but notice the strange behavior of one of the boys. Japheth may have been only ten, but by the way he was acting, he seemed like a much older person. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, glancing left and right, and continuously moistening his lips.

Feeling concerned, Malachi went up to Japheth before heading to the barn. When he placed a hand on the small boy's shoulder, the poor thing jumped about a foot in the air.

"Forgive me," he apologized, "I merely wanted to ask if you were all right,"

Japheth was as white as a sheet. He didn't speak; he merely nodded his head jerkily.

"Are you sure you are not ill?" Malachi pressed on, lightly feeling the boy's forehead.

Japheth nodded again, scooting away from the older boy's hand.

"All right then," he shrugged, but gave the boy an encouraging smile as he left. "May the peace of the lord be with you always."

Japheth smiled weakly back until Malachi was out of sight. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. They always knew when he was planning to run; he didn't know how, but they knew. He would wait awhile before he tried again, but he would escape, he had to.

* * *

Malachi was slopping the pigs when he heard it.

"Hey! Everybody, come quick! Adonijah's having her foal!"

Dropping the bucket on the ground, Malachi scrambled out of the pigpen and ran out of the barn. A crowd had already gathered around the paddock, but he could easily see over the heads of the other children. He could understand their excitement, the birth of a foal had never occurred before and everybody wanted to see this miracle.

But Malachi could tell right away that something was wrong. Adonijah was frothing at the mouth, her eyes wide and alarmed. She was lying on her side, thrashing her legs. That was common pose for a birthing female; what was not common was the set of hind legs sticking out of her vagina. The foal was breech and the mare was panicking.

Nahum approached Adonijah, sniffing curiously. With a strangled whinny, the white mare struck the stallion in the muzzle with her hind leg.

"Nahum!" a young girl cried in alarm, trying to duck under the fence. Malachi caught her by the back of her dress. She struggled, but stopped when she saw the older boy and pouted her upper lip.

"Stay here," he told her before grabbing a pair of bridles from the fence post and climbing into the paddock. The crowd gave a collective gasp, but Malachi ignored it. Instead, he slipped the bridle over Nahum's face, checking his muzzle for blood. Finding none, he led the stallion to the furthest fence post and tied him up. He did the same to Bathsheba, mostly for good measure for the chestnut mare was already as far away from the other mare as she could be.

"Get back Ruth!"

Malachi's head snapped up. Ruth had entered the paddock and kneeled down by the horse's head. Adonijah snorted, flecks of saliva and mucus hitting her dress.

"Easy girl," she whispered, running her hand down the mare's muzzle. Adonijah snapped, barely missing Ruth's fingers. She did not even flinch; she simply stroked the side of the mare's face, from the curve of her cheek down to the base of her neck.

Malachi took a step closer and instantly, the mare lashed out with her hind legs and tossed her head. Ruth shook her head and he stepped back.

"It's all right Adonijah," she resumed her soothing, "everything is going to be all right." She continued to stroke the quivering horses body and, slowly, the stiffness seemed to lessen. Ruth smiled, then placed her hands on Adonijah's still round stomach. The mare twitched, but did not lash out.

Ruth began praying. Malachi couldn't make out what she was saying, but it seemed to further relax the horse. When her lips stopped moving, Adonijah strained once more and, with a damp thump, the foal was fully exposed on the ground.

The crowd cheered and Malachi ran forward to aid Ruth. She had removed her apron and was using it to clean the foals nostrils and mouth. "Will you cut the cord?" she asked, the first words she had uttered directly to him in days.

He nodded and used his scythe to snip the long cord of flesh connecting foal to mother.

"Breath, little one, breath!" Ruth implored, pressing down on the foal's chest. Adonijah struggled to her feet and gazed with concern at her baby.

Finally, the foal squeaked and coughed up some mucus. The crowd applauded and Ruth breathed a sigh of relief as she gave the foal a quick rub down with her apron. Once clean, it was plain that the foal was a male and a roan. He also had a white sock on his left hind leg and a white stripe going down his muzzle.

Malachi and Ruth then backed up so mare and colt could become acquainted. Adonijah sniffed the colt over and licked his ears. Content, she nudged his hindquarters, encouraging him to rise. In a tangle of long limbs, the colt struggled to his feet and tottered towards his mother. Latching on to one of her teats, he began to suckle. A happy sigh resounded from the spectators.

"All right everybody," Malachi called to them, "the colt is born, now please return to your tasks."

"But he needs a name!" a young boy of six called out.

"Yes, he does!" agreed another unidentified voice.

"How about Hosea?" a girl suggested.

"Yes, yes!" The youngest children cheered. "Hosea, what a perfect name!"

"Very well, Hosea he shall be," Malachi sighed, "now please, return to work!"

As though on fire, the crowd dispersed. Ruth turned to him and asked, "Shall I leave as well?"

"No, you need not," he reassured her, then asked, "Is it safe to untie the other horses?"

"I believe so," she nodded. Both walked to the tied-up horses and removed their harnesses. Bathsheba took no interest in the new arrival, but Nahum took a few steps forward, apparently curious about his new son.

"May I speak to you for a moment?" Malachi turned to Ruth.

"If you wish," she said curtly. He motioned for her to follow him, then walked toward the horse cart. Ruth came up to him with her eyes locked on the ground.

"Do not fear me Ruth," he pleaded, "I merely wish to ask you a question."

She looked up and gave him a small smile. "Ask then."

Malachi licked his lips and swallowed. He hesitated only a moment before dropping onto one knee and holding out his scythe like a knight presenting his blade. Ruth gasped and placed a hand on her heart.

"Will you accept my most prized possession in exchange for your hand in marriage?"

A tear rolled down her cheek and Malachi's heart sunk. But then she reached down and took the scythe from his hands. Clasping the handle as though it was a beloved toy, Ruth's face broke into a wide smile.

"I feared you would not want me after we committed that grievous sin," she confessed, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

"Ruth, you have always touched my heart," Malachi reassured her, "and I wish to have you by my side until He Who Walks Behind The Rows takes my soul. Will you have me?"

"Oh Malachi," Ruth beamed, "Of course I'll have you." And dropping the scythe on the ground, she fell into Malachi's arms and pressed her lips to his. He responded to her kiss (he now knew the name of that touch) gently before holding her at arms length.

"We must restrain ourselves," he told her, before getting to his feet, "come, let us tell Isaac so that he may prepare the ceremony."

She nodded, picking up the scythe and carrying it along with her soiled apron. And although he spoke of restraint, Malachi could not resist wrapping his arm around Ruth's shoulders as they walked towards the church.


	5. Blood on Blood

Hi, sorry the update took so long. Stuff kept coming up and, for awhile, I thought people didn't care about this fic. Thanks for proving me wrong!

I do not own the bible. lol. I actually quoted from Mark 4, 3:8

This is where it starts getting bloody. The sex comes next chapter.

And it was very hard for me to pick a name for this chapter.

Chapter five: Blood on Blood

"Hold still Ruth!" squawked Hannah from down on the floor, where she was strapping on her garters. She came up from under Ruth's dress with her hair rumpled. "These things _are_ tradition, but they certainly are difficult to put on."

"Maybe if you'd put them on before she put on her dress," Abigail rolled her eyes as she synched up the waist of the dress with a belt woven from cornhusks.

"Please do not argue," implored Eve, finishing dusting Ruth's cheeks with some powdered corn tinted with lambs blood, "now, let the bride gaze upon herself."

The girls backed away from Ruth and she was left standing by herself in front of the mirror. She could not help but smile. The bridal dress was not overly fancy, but she had never worn something so beautiful. It was a plain white cotton dress, accented only by the cornhusk belt and a wreath of cornhusks in her hair. Her shoes were simple and black and her stockings were attached to her undergarments with a leather garter. The red powder on her cheeks made the rest of her skin appear as white as a cloud.

"I look angelic," she breathed.

"You truly do," Eve encouraged her, walking up to her and lightly touching her hair.

"Do not soil her hair!" scolded Abigail.

"Do not scold her," Ruth told Abigail, who immediately quieted down. Even on her wedding, she would not allow the young women to squabble over her well-being. Besides, Eve meant about as much harm as a butterfly.

"I shall see if the others are ready for you." Hannah excused herself from the room and Ruth was left with two of her three closest friends. That was when Eve let out a whimper.

"What's wrong darling?" Ruth asked, crouching down in front of the ten year old.

"We have shared this house since my mother went with He Who Walks Behind The Rows," the little girl sniffed, "and now you are leaving to be with Malachi."

"Peace Eve," Ruth smiled, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug, "I shall sit with you during meals and aid you in the kitchen."

"But . . ."

"Shh," Ruth looked her firmly in the eye. "You know the ways of the lord. Soon there will be another who comes to take my room. When she arrives, I hope you will treat her with the love and kindness I have taught you."

"I will," Eve smiled, wiping away her tears with the back of her arm.

"Eve does speak for us all," Abigail admitted, "we shall all miss you."

"You all speak as if I am leaving forever," Ruth chuckled, hugging her as well. "Peace to you all. You shall always be my friends."

"It is time Ruth," Hannah smirked, poking her head back into the room.

Ruth nodded, taking a deep calming breath. She took slow tentative steps towards the door. Dear little Eve sauntered up to her side and took a hold of her hand. Feeling stronger with her friends support, Ruth pulled open the door, walked down the hall, glanced one last time at her old home and pushed open the front door.

The night was overcast with clouds, a rare sight for this time of year. A slight breeze ruffled her dress and sent chills down her back. The only light she could see came from the church, where the entire population of Gatlin was waiting for her.

Hannah and Abigail appeared on her other side and they moved, as one, towards the little stone church. At the main door, they were forced to part, for tradition bade her enter alone. Ruth felt very small as she pulled the large oak doors open.

The church was lit only by the candles at the podium and in the aisles. The faces of the children seemed ghostly pale. Ruth kept her eyes on the ground, as instructed by Rachel, while she walked slowly down the aisle. She longed to look up and see Malachi's face, but tradition mandated she keep her gaze down.

She stopped when she saw the stone floor of the church end and the rise of the wooden podium begin. Her ears picked up the sound of Malachi's breathing right beside her. Ruth shivered with excitement and held her breath as Rachel began to speak.

The frizzy haired girl of sixteen stood next to the podium, griping the ceremonial blade. As usual she appeared as bright and delightful as a ray of sunshine, but all of Gatlin knew she was highly passionate about her duties and would not tolerate mistakes in the ceremonies. After Isaac and Malachi, Rachel was easily one of the most revered people in Gatlin.

"By the might hand of He Who Walks Behind The Rows, I bid thee welcome this evening," Rachel proclaimed, raising her free hand to the ceiling.

"We come to worship you, Oh lord," chanted the mass in response.

Now Isaac appeared, a wooden crucible in his hands and approached the podium. The silence was even denser then when Ruth had entered. Everyone could here the rustle of the pages of the bible as Isaac began to read.

"'A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundred fold.' The lord commanded that we make our soil pure, to encourage the prosperous growth of our people. That is why on the day of the Cleansing, we rid our town of the impure and gave The Blue man and The False Minister to He Who Walks Behind The Rows."

"The Blue Man! The False Minister!" the mass chanted.

"The Lord come unto me the day of the Cleansing," Isaac said, his eyes dark and frightening, "and he said 'let your people multiply and be as numerous as the corn in my great field. Do this and one day, all shall know my great power!'"

The whisper of the wind was all that could be heard as Isaac paused to look down at the bowed heads before him.

"Tonight, Malachi and Ruth have been chosen to be joined together in the sacred bonds of marriage, so that they may use the love they share for one another to supply our town with children to insure our future!" The preacher slapped his hands down on the podium. Ruth trembled again.

Isaac nodded at Rachel, who went to stand directly in front of the podium. Her cursory gaze was reminiscent of a scavenging vulture.

"Malachi Craig Boardman, raise your head," she commanded.

Ruth could hear Malachi shift.

"Before the eyes of the Lord and the eyes of this church, will you love this woman, care for her and honor the most sacred bond of marriage until the first day of your 19th year?"

"I will."

"Lower your gaze," Rachel told him, voice calmer than before.

There was a brief moment of quiet before . . .

"Ruth Sandra Clawson, raise your head."

Ruth raised her eyes to meet Rachel's grey ones.

"Before the eyes of the Lord and the eyes of this church, will you love this man, care for him and honor the most sacred bond of marriage until the first day of your 19th year?"

"I will," Ruth nodded.

"Lower your gaze."

She rapidly obeyed. However, Rachel then said, "Turn to each other."

Ruth turned and got her first look at her husband. Malachi was dressed in a white dress shirt and white pants, held up by a belt of cornhusks. His long red hair had been brushed down as much as possible, only a few hairs flying free. His brown eyes were the happiest she had ever seen them and she gladly returned as gleeful smile.

Rachel handed Malachi the ceremonial blade. The knife was small, thin, extremely sharp and the handle was a single cob of dried corn. He swallowed deeply and, remembering every detail of the ceremony, pushed up the white sleeve of Ruth's dress.

She bit her lower lip, but no sound escaped her lips as the point of the knife broke her skin. Malachi's free hand gripped hers; sorrow clouding his eyes as he slowly dragged the knife diagonally up. Blood glistened plainly in the dim light.

Malachi kept tracing cuts on Ruth's pale skin; tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. Ruth refused to cry, despite the pain. She concentrated on the soft grip of Malachi's hand as he finished carving the star.

He pulled the blade from her arm, crimson dripping from the tip. Rachel swiped a cloth rapidly across it, leaving it clean and gleaming. Malachi flipped the knife over and offered the corn handle to Ruth. She took it and rolled up his sleeve. Taking a deep breath and trying not to shake in pain, she pressed the blade into Malachi's arm.

He gave no indication of pain as a circle was slowly carved into his skin. The tears came from Ruth's eyes, spilling over her cheeks as blood spilled down her husbands arm. She did not want to cause the one she loved pain. As she completed the circle, Malachi squeezed her hand, his smile letting her know she was forgiven.

The instant the knife left his arm, Rachel snatched it away and clutched it against her chest. The same cloth was wiped across it so, once again, it was reverted to pure silver.

"He Who Walks Behind The Rows!" she exclaimed, which was the signal for Malachi and Ruth to raise their marked arms in the air. Blood slowly dribbled down both their wrists.

"By the joining of the blood, these two souls have dedicated their lives to each other, to the future of our town and to you, oh Lord!"

At these words, Malachi and Ruth pressed their wrists together. The wounds were cut so they did not directly touch, however the pressure the exerted one another caused even more blood to drip down their arms.

"The joining of the blood, a promise to you!" Rachel screamed, eyes wild as the passion of the lord flowed through her. "Are you pleased Lord?"

Outside, the wind blew even harder, rattling the church windows and sending the cornfield rippling like a great golden sea. Some of the younger children whimpered, while the older ones gaped in awe.

The Preacher smiled from the podium. "Show us your arms," he requested.

The couple pulled their wrists back and bore them for the mass to see. On each wrist was now the pentacle, sticky and dripping with the others blood. The rustling of the cornfield intensified and Isaac gave a slight smile.

"He Who Walks Behind The Rows is very pleased," he told them all, "Malachi and Ruth, you are now husband and wife. You are dismissed for the evening."

"Wait!"

Everybody glanced around to the very back of the church, where Eve, Abigail and Hannah sat. Rachel tensed in anger, knuckles whitening around the handle of the ceremonial blade.

Eve rose from her seat and walked to stand right next to Malachi.

"If you please," she implored, not to Malachi, but to Isaac, kneeling and clasping her hands in front of her, "will you allow me to present a gift from the children of Ruth's home?"

Isaac smiled warmly now.

"Proceed my child," he nodded.

"But-"

"Peace Rachel," Isaac said firmly, warning with his voice. The Priestess fell silent, eyes on the floor.

Reaching into her apron, Eve pulled out a very large knife with its blade shielded with a leather cover.

"Malachi, for asking for Ruth's hand in marriage you have given up your weapon, a sacrifice for anyone. To honor your sacrifice and assure that you will care for her as we have done until now, the women of Ruth's old home have obtained a new blade for you," Eve beamed.

Malachi took the handle and unsheathed the blade, fifteen inches of gleaming steel. He gave it a test swipe through the air and smiled contentedly.

"Don't worry," he reassured the young girl, "I will care for Ruth the same way I will care for this knife, with love and respect." He covered the blade, put it in his pocket and good-naturedly rumpled Eve's hair. She giggled and dashed back to her seat.

"Thank you Eve," Isaac smiled as she sat back down, "the next time you wish to present a gift however, inform either Rachel or myself. Do you understand?"

"Yes Isaac."

Satisfied, the preacher turned again to Malachi and Ruth. "Now you are dismissed," he nodded.

Ruth smiled shyly at her new husband and held out her shaking, bloody hand. He took it in his unblemished hand and together they walked down the aisle, through the sea of quiet children's faces, towards the great oaken doors and a night that belonged just to them.


End file.
